Ned's Declassified Life Survival Guide
by A Northern Irish man
Summary: Ned made the guide for school. It helped him get through every scrap but after school, after college, there was the real world. Now Ned is an aimless 20-something, creating his survival guide for everyday life. Ned and Cookie have moved on but when circumstances drag them back to their hometown, they must face some harsh truths and face some old ghosts.


**After going about a decade without it I recently became obsessed with the series for reasons I can't quite explain. This is more of just an experiment, I will likely write a couple more chapters and then see how things pan out.**

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As the cigarette perched between my lips and the lighter's flame sparked up as I shot my thumb down it I pondered about just how morally absent this week's piece was going to be. Arguing the benefits of destroying your lungs. Just great Bigby. As I took a drag and the fiery tip burnt brighter for a single moment, the hefty door to the roof creaked opened and open came Henderson, my boss.

 _#527: Smoking can help form professional connections with coworkers and bosses. The more responsibility they have the more likely they are to be a smoker._

"Hi boss," I nodded as he approached and leaned up against the wall. Side by side he fished out his Marlboros and began to pat down his pockets trying to find his lighter. Instinctively, I whipped out my and passed it over

 _Being happy to spare a cigarette or lend a lighter can show someone you're considerate and will make you stick out in their mind as someone who has helped them out in a jam._

"I really liked your piece about how to handle one night stands," Henderson stated as he joined me pluffing. "What are you working on this week?"

"This week? Well, I...ah." I began to scramble. "I'm writing a piece on foods not to eat on a first date and…." Quick, something, anything, just not about the cigarettes, "one about old shows that use to be on Nickelodeon back in the day."

"Great," he grinned, "a mid-2000s nostalgia piece. Make it a list, maybe 10 or 20. With plenty of gifs." He finished gesturing with his hands to give gif a bit more flare. "How's everything else going Ned?"

"Great," I quickly replied, taking another drag and staring out into the middle distance, across the city and the cracked pale grey clouds that hovered above it. "Just...great. Getting by"

"Well, that's life." my boss joked as he stubbed out his smoke and tossed me back my lighter. "Thanks Ned, I'm really looking forward to your upcoming pieces."

And with that Henderson dawdled back inside as I stayed a few minutes longer, solitarily gazing into nothing. After a little while of blank contemplation, I headed back downstairs. Galloping down the staircase with my shirt flapping, it gave me time to clear my head, get back into the zone as I made it back to my cubicle. I dropped down onto my swivelling chair and spun around to my desk. The laptop screen faced me, with a blank word document openly mocking me, my hands moved towards the keys when suddenly the table began to buzz as my phone started to ring, vibrating across the desk, and my hands instantly darted for it.

"Ned, you gotta help me." a voice exclaimed as I answered.

"Cookie relax, what is it?" I assured him.

"I've been asked to talk to a group of visiting programmers from San Juan in 2 hours."

"That's not so bad."

"Carol wants me to do it in Spanish."

I paused, "But you suck at Spanish. In High School, you thought your grade was a yes."

"In my defence, that's what was written on the report card."

"No defence," I blurted, "That was the letter C, not sí. Why is Carol even asking you?"

"Because on my resume it says I was fluent in it and spent a semester abroad in Argentina….and that I saved the king of Mexico from a bloody military coup one summer."

"That's a lot to take in." I said, hunched over, rubbing my temple, "wait, isn't Mexico a republic? It doesn't even have a royal family."

"I know. I just wanted to look impressive." Cookie cried

 _#528: With today's economy and saturated job market, it's ok to embellish on a resume sometimes but outright lying can have dire consequences down the line_

"Ok, we'll sort something out but I can't just do it over the phone"

"Ok." Cookie shouted as his head popped up from over my cubicle wall, leaving me to jerk in my seat. "What's the plan?"

"Give me a sec," I began to scour the web, "who will be at this meeting?"

"Just Carol, the five Puerto Rican programmers and myself."

"Perfect." I printed out some schematics and handed them over. "You start constructing this and I'll organise the rest."

I began to rummage through the box under my desk labelled 'Misc- Stuff For Wacky Hijinx

 **2 hours later. 6 floors down.**

By the glass-encased meeting room, Cookie greeted each of the visitors with a firm handshake and repeatedly saying 'hola,' as his manager Carol stood by him. Around his next was the newly built translator, a modulator that would translate what Cookie was saying into Spanish in real time. Along with the numerous golden chains worn to distract from the device. I stood at a distance, waiting for my moment, with my secret weapon tucked behind my back. Once all the guests had arrived I swiftly approached.

"Mrs Madison. Mrs Madison," I called out, distracting Cookie's boss as he turned on the translator.

"Who are you?" She looked me up and down, at my clothes. My open blue shirt, a coffee-stained band t-shirt for Red Army, jeans and my tattered converse. Very set apart from the business wear of this floor. "You don't work here."

"No. no. I'm with Buzzspot on the 34th floor. I was just wondering if you could help me….How do I get to the 34th floor?" She gave me a quizzical look. Over her shoulder, Cookie gave me the signal. "Blimp!" I shouted, pointing into the distance. As Mrs Madison looked to investigate I pulled out the air horn from behind my back and let it off right next to her ear. The horn blared and as she turned back traumatised I slipped it back behind me. "Sorry, my mistake must have just been a plastic bag or something."

"WHAT!?" she screamed.

"It doesn't matter."

"WHAT!?"

"I...uh."

"WHAT!?"

With that, I simply patted her on the shoulder and guided her towards the meeting room. From there it was all up to Cookie. He stood in front of the group and spoke about the beauties of software, the modulator flashing green periodically to translate. Meanwhile, his boss sat at the back, rubbing her ears, barely paying attention to Cookie's 'Spanish.'

Once it was clear Cookie had everything under control I went back to work. It was only once I sat back down I realised my document was still blank, it was 4.15 and I had to upload a piece by 5. A cheap nostalgia feeding list it was then. '10 Nickelodeon Shows That Prove Kid Shows Were Better In The 2000s.' A meatless list that simply featured shows that were the first to come up on Google, bright colours, a selection of gifs and references to when characters finally together with their best friend after seasons of teasing. A piece of crap that would probably get more traction than anything else I wrote this month. At clocking off time I punched in upload, swung my bag over my shoulder and headed off to meet my best friend.

I exited onto the streets of Atlanta, meeting Cookie who was still fiddling with the multitude of gold chains.

"I think they suit me." He said smiling, holding up bulkiest of them all as I reached him.

"Sure thing buddy." I laughed, putting my arm around him as we began walking. "So how did the rest of the talk go?"

"They all spoke English anyway as it turns out….and we may have ruptured Carol's eardrum."

The rest of the journey back to the apartment we talked about work, what the visitors were like, inconsequential stuff. As we arrived at our place I was still thinking about all those kids shows. At the end of the day, there'd be a lesson to take away from it all. A moral teaching to wrap everything up. Real life really is just a series of grey shades. Coming through the door I flick on the lights and step onto our collection of mail. Picking up the pile and dividing it between ourselves we combed through the junk mail and flyers for all the latest deals and the store. One caught my eye with a familiar logo. Opening it up I read out aloud the letter.

"Dear Mr Ned Bigby. You are cordially welcomed to the James K. Polk High School, Class of 2012's school reunion."

….Well shit

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 **Hope you enjoyed. Ned probably does seem pretty bleak but that just getting older. If you liked it let me know if I should keep it up and if you have any suggestion**


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